


Our House (In The Middle of Our House)

by HerbertBest



Series: The Thread That Binds Us Here [15]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Commitment, Committed Relationship, Furniture, Humor, Moving In Together, Multi, Polyfidelity, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerbertBest/pseuds/HerbertBest
Summary: Suzy and Arin finally ask Dan to officially move in with them, but growing pains soon set in.





	1. Chapter 1

“OK, sushi and wine, and now you’re rubbing my back.” Dan let out a grumbling sigh as Suzy’s index finger prodded the stiffest part of the back of his neck. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Dan…” Arin said, his voice deepening hypnotically from the space between Dan’s knees. “Just relaaax.”

“Super creepy,” Dan laughed, but kissed Arin’s bristly chin. “It’s almost like you’re both buttering me up for something.” He went stiff. “Is something really wrong?”

“No!” Suzy kissed the nape of his neck and went back to kneading.

“Nope,” Arin said. He kept feeding Dan bits of sushi until it was gone, then started in on the leftover bits of salad Dan had rejected. Dan leaned into Suzy’s frontside, releasing a quiet sigh. The peace of it all was beautiful.

Once he was completely relaxed and Suzy’s nails were skimming lightly over his ribs, he heard Arin say “open your hand.”

Dan expected to have a dick pressed against it when he did. What he felt instead was something small and square-shaped.

He popped open an eye and very carefully opened the object; a tiny blue box. And inside was a silver key.

Dan raised an eyebrow, held up the key. “But I already have one to your place. And one to the car.”

“This is to someplace even more special.”

“Where?”

“The back door.”

“Oh.” Dan felt emotional somehow – which was very weird, it wasn’t as if they wouldn’t let him in if he’d knocked before. Dan tilted his head, when Arin shifted - and Arin – very awkwardly, Dan had to steady him – held on to Dan’s shoulder as he knelt.

Then he said, with all due drama, “Leigh Daniel Avidan, would you move in with us?”

All Dan could do was say yes.

 

*** 

It wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. 

There was a lot of planning involved. Suzy was a decorator at heart, and her insistent plans demanded careful workarounds. Dan didn’t have many possessions he valued highly; his clothing, his football helmets, his still from the Last Unicorn. His phones, his calendar, his plans. Suzy was aghast by his lack of organization.

“Who did your first house?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I hired a nice girl.”

“But you didn’t have any ideas?” Dan shrugged again. Suzy and Arin had planned their dream house from very tender ages. Dan was not the sort of domestic that involved white picket fences – even picket fences that involved little witchy spires attached to them. 

She took him by the hand and dragged him to various furniture shops, trying to get him to commit to a nice dresser or a desk for his office. But Dan was drawn by speakers and by wah-wah peddles. He wanted a home studio more than a home office. 

“Do you know how much soundproofing we’d need?” 

“Too much,” Dan agreed, and sighed loftily.

She squeezed his hand. “I’ll talk to arin. We already have some baffling from when you guys used to film in the condo.”

That brought back good memories. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting you need any time you want it, baby.”

She stood on her tiptoes in those impossible heels of hers and then kissed his nose. “One more stop,” she said, and aimed him toward Hot Topic. “We’re going to get you some new teeshirts if it kills me.”

Dan sighed, long and with a note of good-natured suffering. He was a married man now.

Well. Close to it.


	2. Orange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A difference in taste.

“Orange.”

Dan raised an eyebrow and turned in Suzy’s direction. “What?” he said nervously. “What’s wrong with orange?”

“I just…really don’t like orange?” Suzy charged ahead. “You love blue! How about blue with white sofas?” 

“Scuze, do you really want white couches in that house?” he asked her. 

She bundled up the blanket she’d been carrying and nudged him toward the beds. “Pick something cute,” she instructed him. “And big!”

“Anything you say, babe.” He shook his head. A giant bed? Bigger than his? He could totally find one. 

Though a tiny part of him was worried, somehow, that he was throwing Arin and Suzy out of their own lives, their own spaces, their own places in their own rooms. 

_They’re inviting you in,_ Dan reminded himself. _Don’t be stupid about it,_ he reminded himself. 

But, deep down, fear filled up Dan’s stomach like a gallon of burning hot water. He wanted them to want him there, he really did. 

But what would happen if they suddenly stopped needing him?

*** 

Arin was home when they came back, with some of Dan’s clothing and a few of his possessions. Arin helped him hang up his leather jacket, put his football helmets up on a high shelf. All of the important things – his music, texts from his friends, pictures of his family – came with him wherever he went.

“Got some MST on the tube. C’mon, we can always finish when the rest of it gets here.”

“Excellent,” Dan said. “I’m too tired to think straight anyway.”

“Babe, you haven’t thought straight since you kissed me.” Arin’s little giggle was a bit galling, but Dan pecked his cheek anyway. 

“So stupid,” he said lovingly. 

They were cuddling up on the couch a few minutes later with Suzy, and there Dan could let his hair down and let himself go. There he could feel like he belonged somewhere, that he was a part of something greater. And the weirdness he’d felt began to dissipate. He belonged, he was wanted, he was needed, and he was welcome.

He’d convince Suzy he needed the orange sofa later.


	3. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suzy tries to make tribute to their relationship in art form.

“How do you feel about art?”

Dan blinked at Suzy’s question. He’d been shoveling Special K into his mouth, and had been playing footsie with Arin under the table. “Um…it’s good?” he said. 

“I mean self-produced art!” she smiled. “I just finished a painting and I was wondering if you wanted it for your office.”

“Don’t fight her, baby. She’s on a mission,” Arin said. As if Dan would ever dream of fighting the woman he loved.

Dan was familiar with that part of Suzy’s personality, anyway. She was as driver, a go-getter, something of a pusher. She was tougher than he and Arin combined, and amazingly strong-willed when she wanted to be. “Um…sure! Can I see what it is first?”

She pointed toward her studio, and Dan automatically followed. There were three rooms to pass by, and his minimal possessions were arrayed all over his office. His football helmets would hopefully be in the bedroom after today was over.

IF the day ever ended. He was starting to feel like he was on a roller coaster and it was never, ever going to stop until he crashed headfirst into a guard rail. 

Dan’s morbid thoughts died away when Suzy herded him into her studio and closed the door, Arin entering right behind him. 

“Give me a drum roll,” she instructed, and Dan and Arin began to click their tongues, sounding like a bunch of ants marching against a piece of wax paper. She reached for the cloth to pull it back, and what was revealed made Dan smile.

It was a portrait of himself, Suzy and Arin, facing at a profile to the right, a hand visible on the shoulder of the person before them. The style was beautiful, classical, and evocative of her best and most intimate work.

She smiled. “I’ve been working on it for months,” she confessed. 

“It’s the prettiest thing I’ve seen all day. Present company excepted,” Dan said. His touch was gentle upon the edge of the canvas as he admired it.

“And I did it all myself from one reference,” she bragged, which earned her a kiss to the ear from Arin.

“I love it,” Dan said. “I’m going to put it in my study and keep it where I can always see it.”

“Thank you,” she said, and came up behind him, wrapped an arm around his waist. Arin had an arm around both of them as they stared at Suzy’s work. 

*** 

Awhile later, Dan sat alone in his office, listening to scratch tracks Brian had made for the next album. The notes he scaled went up and down the spectrum of sound, reflecting bits of the emotions he was feeling. He suggested something a little more romantic this time out. He had half-finished lyrics sitting before him. They spelled out the story of a brave knight who loved a prince and princess both alike – yes loved, even with his moments of doubt – and hoped to be with them forever. 

There were some boob and dick jokes thrown in of course. It was NSP, not Shakespeare. 

It spelled out a lot of things that they hadn’t said to the Lovlies yet. Things they’d all been afraid to speak of aloud even to one another. Things they all felt and knew floated between them – tender love, esteem, erotic affection.

Dan thought about the scene before him. Well. He was living with them. They were sharing a house. Maybe if he decided to finally be real with them and come out with it, everything would feel more free – he wouldn’t be so scared, he could display his love in public without anxiety.

He smiled and leaned much closer to the screen of his iPad. Time to get to work.


	4. The Hand Chair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan brings something home from a video shoot.
> 
> Suzy is bemused, but Arin's intrigued.

Dan was the one who brought home the chair.

It was, to put it mildly, quite a special chair. Left over from the last NSP video shoot, it was a bright red oversized hand, its palm cupped to hold the buttocks of the sitter, one big middle finger outstretched.

He’d had to fight Brian for it, he said, to Arin’s visible delight and Suzy’s clearly appalled face.

“I think I want to put it in my office,” he plunged along eagerly. “It would look fucking awesome with my blue walls and my big, round lounger.”

“Right,” Suzy said through her teeth. Arin, wisely, said nothing and put his back into it when Dan asked for help moving the chair into place.

*** 

Suzy eyeballed it whenever she entered Dan’s room. To her credit, she never really said anything to him about her distaste for the thing. 

She very fondly, however, suggested buying an all-weather stegosaurs skeleton for their front yard if he promised to be the one who cleaned it.

It was a fair trade. The chair, after all, had an opposing effect on his other lover. Arin liked it so much he bounced on Dan’s dick while they sat cuddled up in its palm. 

Arin insisted on using full 60s speak the whole time and calling him things like ‘daddy-o’.

“Your come tastes ginchy,” Arin said, licking his lips.

“How do you even know what that means? What are you talking about?!” Dan wondered, considering laying off on the sushi for a week. 

“Like, why do you need to be hip to it?” Arin asked. Deadpan face.

Dan rolled his eyes and got him a Kleenex to wipe his chin with. 

Suzy couldn’t get into the spirit of it. She was more morbid than edgy modern art, anyway. Nevertheless, she was willing to sit in his lap when he settled in it. 

“You know, this chair is more comfortable than I thought it would be,” she idly observed, playing with his chest hair. “And Arin did tell me that it can take a beating…” 

“Well,” then looped his hands behind his head, whistling, his big brown eyes innocently held wide. 

She rolled her eyes and poked him right in the nose, just seconds before Dan gasped her hips and pulled her into a gentle kiss.


	5. Couches

Dan was very particular about couches. 

They had to be solid and warm; they had to be wide enough for him to lie down on. They must support his delicate back and boost up his aching feet. Like his oversized bed which had been retrofitted into a communal couch, it had to be comfortable. He had Opinions on soft things. Which was somehow a typically Dan emotion.

Suzy found him a huge, black leather thing that nearly sank him between the cushions every time he sat down. Arin couldn’t help but cackle whenever it happened, and Dan could do nothing but pout and reach for him. “A little help, please?” he’d beg. And Arin would heave him from between the cushions.

Suzy would perch more regally among the pillows, looking seraphic, occupying the space like a queen. She never really relaxed in unless she was laughing; always wanted to look right instead of comfortable. Dan tried to encourage her to be more honest with herself but sometimes it went into one ear and out the other. He loved her best when she was in sweats with no makeup. But she didn’t always understand that.

Arin, meanwhile, burrowed in and farted on the cushions, drooled and snored and slept there with his head in Dan’s lap. Dan would find himself stroking Arin’s straight hair and murmuring words of encouragement, trying to keep him sleeping, comfortable and under. Arin loved Dan’s room the most; he’d hang out there even with the weird chair, the beautiful Suzy-painted art. He belonged there as much as Dan did.

They were starting to settle in, and Dan admitted he was relieved about it. All of the disparate parts of their lives fit together in a surprisingly cozy way. If they would stay that way though – well, that was up in the air.


	6. TV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan never felt the need to own a television set.

Dan had lived without a television set for the last five years of his life.

Everything he’d wanted to see was online, and he didn’t mind just using his phone or laptop to relax with, if Game of Thrones was on. He mostly liked Youtube or his iTunes catalog, anyway. 

Adjusting to Suzy and Arin’s expectations was something he tried hard to do. It seemed as if Arin’s flatscreen plasma was always on – playing the mid-90s reruns Suzy preferred, or some Twitch streamer Arin was scouting for the touring company. It was more than Dan was used to, and sometimes he retreated to his music room, to try out a new song in silence.

Suzy picked up on his frustration, as she always did. “Dan, if you want we can just sit here. You and me, together, reading.”

“We haven’t ever read together,” he pointed out. “I didn’t think you would want to read after spending all day working.”

“I know you like it,” she said. “And I wanted to get to the end of the Raven Prince tonight.”

He’d been reading that one by himself. “Aren’t you ahead of me?”

“Not by much,” she said. “I’ll go back and read the parts you haven’t gotten to.”

“Okay,” he said. He shed his motorcycle jacket and lay with his head in her lap. Her words soothed him, pouring over his nerves like honey.

Arin came home and joined them silently hours later. By the time Suzy was done reading, Dan was finished himself, sliding off into unconsciousness. 

Arin turned the TV on as he came up to spoon against Suzy’s side. Dan slid away under a sheet of staticy white noise.

Sometimes televisions WERE useful after all.


	7. Gold Record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Accomplishments and Milestones

Arin was the one who brought the gold records into the house. They weren’t Dan’s gold records; no platinum Ninja Sex Party or Starbomb records, yet. But they were representations of Rush’s best moments, collective gestures toward decorating the house in a style he appreciated. 

The records went up interspersed with Arin’s own drawings of beautiful, big-titted anime women; with Suzy’s death drawings, the gothic fantasies she harbored. Among her taxidermied skulls and pinned butterflies, they shone in a way that was glam and neon, clashing with their plain white surroundings. Their existence, all showy and glam, pointed up how they shouldn’t work, how they wouldn’t function under normal circumstances and would likely end up tearing each other apart.

Yet in tandem, cuddled together, walking side-by-side on the street, dancing around on stage – somehow cosmically they aligned to some epic show of grandeur. Somehow they worked. Completely.

And yet. And yet.

Dan was sitting with his head in Arin’s soft lap as Arin scribbled away at his Wacom tablet. Suzy’s face was pressed against his hip, bare of any sort of make-up. The TV was playing a re-run of Friends that he saw sometime in his twenties, a plot and a laugh line that rested on the tip of his memory but could not be recalled to life. Peace swamped over him, like a friendly blanket. Whatever differences that lingered between them could be forgotten easily.

This was home, Dan realized suddenly. It was home and would always be home, as long as he had the courage to keep his faith.


End file.
